Heartbeat
by RueEmerson
Summary: Established Charlie and Monroe. If I were an actual scriptwriter for Revolution, this is how S2 would be progressing. I don't own these characters but am quite taken by David Lyons ...
1. Chapter 1

Charlie had grown accustomed to Bass' heartbeat, so when he wasn't in bed, she felt empty. She chastised herself for becoming attached to the man who was responsible for the deaths of her brother and the man who raised her. She had long ago surmised Ben Matheson was not her biological father.

On this night, when Bass crawled into their rented bed, Charlie couldn't hold back a sign of relief as he pressed his chest against her back and slid his strong arms around her. He had been covertly watching two men they suspected were patriots, two men who had been trailing them since three towns back.

Charlie's thoughts faded as she drifted to sleep, only to awaken sometime later in the dark to Bass' voice.

"I don't much appreciate being woken up by the likes of you," he calmly said, a hint of warning in his voice. It was then Charlie sensed there were intruders in their hotel room. She was facing the wall, but she kept her eyes closed.

Bass tightened his arm around her waist while she felt his other arm under her head shift as he gripped the gun they kept under the pillow. Charlie tapped her fingers on his hand that rested on her stomach to signal she was ready and Bass nuzzled her ear in return. She pressed herself into him as he rolled them over, his gun blazing. Both of the patriots fell as two shots rang out.

Without speaking, Charlie and Bass hastily dressed and grabbed their belongings before climbing out the window into the night. They were down the road long before the bodies were discovered.

Charlie was always two steps in front of Bass when they traveled on foot.

It had started when she was reunited with him and she had tried to escape. Even though their relationship had changed she still did it. She wasn't sure why he let her now … was it because she was leading him to her mother and Miles?

He was a ruthless cold-hearted killer who was now her partner and lover. What would Miles think when she brought home his former best friend and comrade?


	2. Chapter 2

They were less than two days out from her grandfather's homestead and Charlie dreaded it the closer they got.

Not because she was bringing home the family murderer but because she'd have to face her mother. The two of them, well, she couldn't forgive Rachel for her actions. She doubted they would ever be able to mend that fence. She'd have a better chance of becoming Bass' wife before she and her mother became friends.

Charlie involuntarily rolled her eyes, lost in thought. Bass nudged her as he sat down next to her at the campfire they had made.

"What are you thinking about Charlotte?" he inquired. Charlie shook her head. She still hadn't figured out her mother's relationship with Bass and she certainly didn't want to discuss it with him of all people.

"Nothing important," she replied.

Besides, she thought, how could he understand that she loved him and hated him all the same?

Unbeknownst to her, Bass shared the same sentiment. He admired her for her fiery spirit and willingness to stand up to him. But that was why he despised her too. Every time he looked at her, he was reminded she was the offspring of his former best friend and yet somehow that made it wickedly wonderful that they were involved.


	3. Chapter 3

As they came over the hill to her family's land, Charlie stopped. Bass was irritated that it was nearly dusk and he stared at her with impatience.

"You need to stay here or at least fall back," she said.

"Hell, no!" he retorted. "I'm not letting you go alone."

"You're going to have to trust me, Bass. If I don't go alone and give Miles a heads up, he will kill you on the spot," she told him, anger flared in her eyes.

He was taken aback by her concern and touched at the same time. He dipped his head in acknowledgement to let her go ahead.

* * *

Rachel was the first to notice Charlie walking toward the house. She scrambled from the kitchen into the yard, yelling for Miles. Her father trailed behind her. Miles shot out from the nearby barn, and spotting Charlie, reached her first. He pulled her into a rough embrace.

"I missed you, kid," he gruffly said, squeezing her tight. Charlie smiled into his shoulder. She had missed him too.

He released her so he could peer into her face. She didn't look too worse for the wear but she had a glint in her eye that told him something was up. He knew that look because her mother wore the same one at times.

Miles lifted an eyebrow in question. Charlie opened her mouth to speak when her mother and grandfather approached.

Rachel badly wanted to embrace her daughter but she knew Charlie wouldn't respond well. Charlie's grandfather smiled behind her in welcome.

Miles again eyeballed her, and for a moment, all Charlie wanted to do was ask him if he was indeed her father. She squelched it, as this was not the time to talk about such matters. Bass was waiting.

"I decided to come back and help fight the patriots," she said truthfully. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew fighting alongside Miles accomplished more. And with Bass in the picture, well, the man hadn't been a general for nothing. Together as a team they could bring the resistance into fruition.

"But," Miles hinted, bringing her back to the present, still noticing the glint in her eye. Charlie sighed. He truly had to be her father.

"I'm not alone," she said. She signaled to Bass he could come out of hiding. When Rachel caught a glimpse of him, she screamed in fury. Miles swallowed and glanced at Charlie.

"What were you thinking, leading him here?" he quietly asked.

Charlie glared at all of them and tried not to lose her cool.

"He's the best chance we've got to win over the patriots," she snapped.

Her grandfather restrained Rachel from going for a weapon while Miles debated what to do. He had half a mind to whip Charlie right there and then but yet knew deep down she was right, and if she trusted his old friend, then he should too.

Bass cautiously walked toward them. Charlie angled herself in front of him defensively should her mother manage to grab a gun.

Bass again was impressed Charlie would stand in between him and her family.

He and Miles stared each other down without saying a word. They had been like brothers since junior high and served together for so long, they could practically read each other's minds.

Rachel, on the other hand, continued cursing at him. Charlie refused to move until Miles finally motioned they should move into the privacy of the house, away from any patriot ears and eyes. Monroe was bound to attract attention once the town knew he was here.

Once inside, the group settled in the living room. To piss her mother off, Charlie deliberately sat in Bass' lap like she had so many times before on their journey here as part of their cover. Bass stifled a grin and merely slid an arm around her as she leaned back into him.

Charlie dared Miles to say anything as she looked directly at him. He shrugged and sat down in the opposite chair. Rachel, however, stood against the doorframe, her distrust evident.

They devised a preliminary plan of attack as the evening wore on.

The tension had worn off, that was until Charlie announced she was ready to turn in and pulled Bass with her like a possessive girlfriend toward the bedroom her grandfather had allotted her. They had barely gotten in the room before Miles called through the door asking for Charlie to come out for a minute.

Bass cocked his head toward the door and gestured she obey. Charlie shook her head but complied.

Miles cornered her in the hallway and motioned toward the bedroom.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked. It more than a little disturbed him that Monroe was sleeping with her.

Charlie crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Really, Miles? I'm a grown woman and you're not my father," she said. There was a pregnant pause as Charlie realized what she'd just said. "Or wait a minute, maybe you are."

Miles shifted his weight and avoided eye contact. That answered her question, confirming her suspicions.

"It's true, isn't it?" she softly asked, dropping her tough act. "When did you know?"

Again, Miles couldn't look at her. That riled Charlie.

"You've known all along, haven't you!" she hissed. That finally got Miles' attention.

"What was I supposed to do? I wasn't exactly father material and your mother had already agreed to marry your dad, my brother," he said. He turned away. "I knew he could give you a better life than I could. Besides, you turned out okay."

Charlie processed that information, debating whether she should be happy or mad.

"We will talk about this later," she said, leaving him standing there. Miles was so thrown by the turn of the conversation, he forgot why he had called her out in the first place.

* * *

Bass smirked at her when she returned.

"Everything okay?" he asked nonchalantly. Charlie shoved him in the chest and he chuckled, catching her hands and pulling her close. He felt like the forbidden boyfriend and was determined to play it out.

"Bass," she hissed, when he provocatively slid his hands to her hips and nibbled at her neck.

"Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about it," he huskily whispered in her ear. She shivered and pressed into him.

He lifted her up and tossed her onto the bed, following her down. She suppressed a giggle at his antics.

In the room next to theirs, Rachel covered her head with a pillow as the bed creaking seared into her brain.

Down the hall, Miles lamented over the situation, trying to erase the image of his daughter sitting in Monroe's lap. He wanted badly to walk in and kill Monroe on the spot for defiling her. But that would only push Charlie over the edge and he had just got her back.

Meanwhile, Bass smothered a groan, his face buried in Charlie's neck, her hands in his hair, as her body clenched his. She fell asleep with him curled around her protectively, a feeling of contentment sweeping over them both and a sense of being safe for the first time in a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

When Charlie roused the next morning, she noticed two things: Bass was still in bed with her, which was highly unusual for the man, and he was awake and those piercing blue eyes were staring at her, which was typical.

"Plotting your next strategy, General?" she kidded, shifting around under the sheets until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

He gave her a half-smile, one that indicated he was doing that very thing. On what, she didn't know. She changed tactic.

"How long have you been awake?" she prodded, one hand idly skimming his bare chest.

"An hour or two," he gravelly replied, halting her hand from wandering lower. Charlie lifted an eyebrow.

For the first time in ages Bass had soundly slept through the night, without concern there was a target on his back.

Even though Rachel was merely feet away in the next room and would gladly have murdered him in his sleep — Miles probably wanted him dead, too, for that matter — he knew they wouldn't attack with Charlie being in close proximity. He was using her just like she was using him.

But while he valued his own skin above all, Charlie had singlehandedly penetrated the wall he had built after Miles left. He wasn't ready to admit it out loud that he needed her, for she was the only shred of humanity keeping him in this rotten world. He would, however, kill or be killed for her.

Charlie had been with Bass long enough to know when to push for a response and when to give him space. He would share his next strategy when he was good and ready so why not have a little fun in the meantime?

She gave him a wicked smile as she slid her foot up his calf. He growled, releasing her wandering hand to grab the back of her neck and pull her lips to his. She smiled into the rough kiss and shifted her weight to force him to lay back.

Straddling his waist, Charlie looked down at him in triumph, her long hair curtained around them. Bass gazed up her, eyes dark with desire — and for a fleeting second wished everyday could be like this — before gripping her hips and arching against her, burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust.

Later that morning they made their way downstairs like a couple of guilty teenagers to face the firing squad she called her family.


	5. Chapter 5

Bass agreed to go for a stroll of the town with Miles, leaving Charlie to fend for herself at home. Charlie had wanted to go with them but Miles had insisted he wanted to visit with Bass along and virtually pleaded with her to at least give him that. She reluctantly conceded, woefully watching them disappear into the distance.

It was at that moment her mother had decided to take the opportunity to goad her about her alliance with Monroe.

"Really, Charlie? Are you that stupid?" Rachel accused.

Charlie smirked at her.

"I can't tell if you're mad that I brought him here or that I'm sleeping with him," she retorted.

Rachel refrained from slapped her daughter but the flare of anger in her eyes set Charlie on the defensive.

"Were you sleeping with him, too? Jeez, you really get around, don't you?" Charlie said, staring at her mother, whom would neither confirm nor deny the statement. Rachel stared back but was the first to look away.

"What happened to us?" she softly said.

"I don't know, mother! Maybe it's because I can't tell whose side you're on? Maybe it's because you betrayed me, the man who raised me, my brother? Maybe it's because I can't believe anything you say? Take your pick!" Charlie said, her annoyance surging.

"But Bass Monroe?!" Rachel yelled. "You of all people know what he has done to this family!"

Charlie's grandfather appeared in the room and urged them both to calm down.

"Girls, I know you have your differences, but each other is not the enemy," he quietly but firmly said. "The enemy is out there and we need to find a way to bury the past and move forward! I will not tolerate my daughter and granddaughter behaving this way. It ends now."

He looked back and forth between them.

"No more talk about who did who wrong or who brought who where. I mean it," he said. With that, he walked out. Charlie eyed her mother, who pursed her lips and grudgingly dipped her head in acknowledgement. Charlie mirrored her actions before walking out of the room and out of the house.

Meanwhile, Miles was barely restraining himself from slaying Monroe with his sword.

"Just do it, Miles," Bass said, stopping in midstride and facing him. "Get it out of your system so we can get on with more important things, like defeating the patriots."

Miles bit his lip and looked away before decking Monroe hard, so hard Monroe was sure his jaw was broken. They wrestled for a bit and Miles managed to make contact more often than not.

Bass knew he had it coming and did little to deflect most of the punches. He considered it a small price to pay for the woman who had stared down his gun without flinching. She made his sorry life worth living, not that he'd ever tell Miles that.

"She's my kid for crying out loud!" Miles groused once he'd beat the daylights out of Monroe to his satisfaction.

"You think I didn't know that?" Bass retorted, wiping his bleeding lip with the back of his hand and faintly smiling. "She acts just like you."

Miles sighed and shook his head.

"What you've done to this family …" he said.

Bass silently stared at him for a while before responding.

"I'm not proud of what I've done, who I've become, but I'm not the only one who has torn this family apart," he said, pausing. "I'm here now, ready to fight alongside you and to defend those who matter to me."

Miles was so taken aback by the declaration, his jaw dropped. Bass hadn't expressed that kind of sentiment in years.

"You're starting to attract flies there, buddy," Bass said, grinning.

"I still could kill you," Miles growled. "I still might."

Bass threw his head back and laughed, slapping Miles on the shoulder.

"Let's take the country back, first, okay?" Bass said.


	6. Chapter 6

**_A/N: I have no idea what's going to happen in Episode 2:06; I'm fervently praying for Monroe's salvation. But should he die, rest assured I'm going to resurrect him here._**

Bass wasn't sure when exactly the shit hit the proverbial fan, but he knew he was covered in it and there was no way he was getting out of this mess.

He inwardly cursed. He didn't even get to say goodbye to Charlie.

He glanced at the patriots who had him tied down for execution and sighed. He turned his head and spotted a disgruntled Miles, sporting blood and bruises, handcuffed and held captive at gunpoint by two patriots. He saw Rachel in the crowd, obvious hatred mixed with delight gleaming from her face at the sight of him incapacitated. He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.

Again, he wished he could have spoken with Charlie one more time, said what needed saying out loud. She really had been that one bright spot in his miserable existence. But he had missed his chance, and for that, he felt a twinge of sadness.

He supposed he deserved this after all. He had royally f****d with fate all those years ago … bringing war, tearing alliances and destroying families. He knew he was destined to burn in hell for what he had done.

Bass Monroe didn't believe in second chances. There was no reason to cling to the theory that he, a fallen general, was allowed or would be granted redemption.

He opened his eyes once more to gaze upon the pitted ceiling as Rachel's father pushed the needle into his arm and waited for the drug to take effect …

* * *

They had been laughing — from the gut, outright falling-on-their-asses laughing — as they reminisced about their days pre-blackout. Miles was recalling the time he'd rescued Bass from a situation that involved a bucket, a dog and a bra.

Charlie had so radiantly beamed in his direction that night, looking at him like he wasn't a worthless wreck of a human, he had almost chucked his drink aside, thrown her over his shoulder into their room and had his way with her right then and there.

Rachel had refused to join them for the much-needed distraction from their current military operations. She had good reason to hate him; he had inadvertently been behind the murder of her son and husband. That coupled with his intimate relationship with Charlie had nearly pushed her to the brink of insanity. He knew there was nothing he'd ever be able to do to gain her forgiveness.

The next thing Bass remembered was being bound and blindfolded. He could hear Charlie shouting — that pretty mouth was actually cussing someone out — and he faintly smiled, proud, before he blacked out again.

* * *

Charlie was not going to let Bass die.

She understood he needed to pay the debt of his crimes; she got that was how justice was supposed to work. But not like this. Not without a chance to redeem himself, to offer amends, to make things right in as much as he possibly could.

The patriots had caught them by surprise in their own home. She suspected her own mother was behind the ambush. Miles had managed to break free before they recaptured him near the barn while Bass was accosted in the living room without warning.

It was her fault, really. She was the one who had encouraged the light-hearted reverie that night. They had let their guard down, pretending the world outside wasn't bearing down on them. They weren't ever going to be safe until the patriots' regime was crushed.

The leader of the patriots had insisted she be barred from the execution room. He had seen her in action and didn't want to risk her breaking loose and halting Monroe's impending death.

Charlie grimaced as the storm within her twisted. If it were the last thing she did on this earth, she would free Bass so he could rise up the resistance and annihilate the wretched bastards calling themselves patriots.

Her eyes darted around the room she was locked in. She knew she could escape her bonds but how could she escape the premises, past the armed guards and still reach Bass alive?

There was a commotion on the other side of the door and suddenly Aaron was standing in the doorway, wide-eyed.

Charlie ruefully smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Bass couldn't fathom why a blonde, blue-eyed angel leaning over him. He should be thrashing around in the darkest, deepest pit, and yet here he was, cradled in her arms, soothingly stroking his hair.

If this was a dream, then he'd gladly hand over his soul to stay where he was.

* * *

Aaron had unwittingly released a force of nature known as Charlotte Matheson when he swung open that door. It was with good reason the patriot leader had not wanted her anywhere in the vicinity.

Charlie had furiously tore into the execution room, the warrior within demolishing anyone who dared get in her way, even taking out one of the patriots with a kick that crushed his throat.

Miles noted later he couldn't have done a better job at leaving no patriot standing than Charlie; who could have imagined a combination of genes and training could be so lethal?

They had just barely managed to save Bass from crossing into the next world and it nearly cost the little band of rebels their own lives dodging the rest of the Texas town, carrying Monroe and fleeing.

Most of the townspeople had come to the show to watch the former militia dictator perish and Charlie had upended their entertainment. It didn't matter if they trusted the patriots or not, they had wanted a little diversion to lift their dreary spirits.

Fortunately Aaron had rustled up a plan of his own to save his friends when he freed Charlie, so the whole lot of them, Monroe included, survived to see another sunrise.


	8. Chapter 8

Thump, thud-thump, thump.

Bass came into consciousness to the gentle beat.

Thud-thump, thump.

He was intrigued by the sound that resounded beneath his ear.

Thump, thud-thump, thump.

Whatever it was, it was comforting, he concluded, faintly smiling.

Then the warm pillow stirred.

Bass' eyes snapped open to see familiar clear blue eyes staring back at him.

"Charlotte," he rasped.

* * *

Charlie helped Bass sit up. He was disoriented and weak but he quickly made note of his surroundings, the Marine in him very much alive.

They were on the ground in a tent with the faint flickering of a lantern in the corner. He heard racket outside the flap and he tensed.

Charlie soothingly brushed her fingers across his temple.

"Relax," she softly said. "It's just Miles trying to cook up dinner."

Bass let out a snort; Miles would be the death of him yet. Nothing he fixed was ever edible.

Death …

He looked into Charlie's face, perplexed on how he was still breathing.

"What happened?" he asked. Charlie grinned as Miles entered.

"We saved your sorry ass, that's what," he retorted. He handed them a tin plate with an unidentifiable hunk on it.

"Do I even want to know?" Bass muttered as he squinted at the meal before him.

"Probably not," Miles replied, digging into his own plate with fervor.

Bass looked at Charlie again. She was a sight for sore eyes. His breath hitched. He couldn't believe he was sitting next to her, that he was still on this side of the grave for that matter.

"You need to eat," Charlie told him, gently offering him a morsel from the plate they shared. "You've been out of it for three days."

He accepted it, blinking. Three days.

"Where are we?" he asked, swinging his eyes to Miles.

Miles shrugged as he finished scarfing down his food.

"Somewhere in New Mexico?" he said between bites. "All I know is Aaron directed us to meet him in Colorado Springs and then him and Cynthia split."

Bass gazed back at Charlie.

"And your mom?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes, fire leaping into them, before answering with a sneer.

"Dead."


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: I realize some of you may be wondering where exactly did I get established Charlie/Bass, well, I have to give some credit to ImLuvinMyThesaurus, so be sure to check out the Revolution stories: What Would Happen If We Kissed and Memories Wrapped In a Name for some excellent backstory.**_

_**FYI, I am obviously veering a bit from current episodes making this a bit AU, but again, I don't own these characters, I just have a different path for them. Feel free to review and share your thoughts. And now on with the show …**_

Bass gained strength as they pushed on into northern New Mexico.

The trio covered as much ground as possible with what they had, which was mostly just pure grit and determination. They made necessary pit stops, eating what they could catch and Charlie and Miles sleeping in shifts.

Bass repeatedly protested that he should be in the rotation but was met with steely glares. Neither father nor daughter felt he could handle it yet.

After what Rachel had done, they realized they couldn't trust anyone outside their tight circle and that meant staying off the roads and out of towns.

* * *

On his shifts outside the tent, Miles replayed that fateful night in his head.

He should have known Rachel would turn on them. She had been madder than a hornet when Charlie brought Bass home and continually pulled him aside to complain. She had demanded Monroe's head as retribution for Danny's death and attempted to sway Miles each time, playing on his sympathy and the love they'd once shared.

Miles privately grieved for her; he discovered he still cared deep down for her. But she had tried to come between him and Monroe, and in the end, that bond proved it couldn't be broken no matter how messed up his buddy was.

* * *

Every time Bass tried to get Charlie or Miles to tell him what actually happened that night, they would share "the look" and shut him down. It unnerved him slightly how alike they truly were.

He brought up the subject one late afternoon as he and Charlie were hunting while Miles set up camp. She was stripping a squirrel she'd shot when he squatted on his hunches next to her.

"Why won't you tell me what happened to your mom?" Bass quietly asked. "You and Miles are acting like it some classified secret."

Charlie ignored him as she bagged the squirrel and picked up her crossbow.

"Come on, Charlotte," he pleaded, laying a hand on her arm. She looked down at the ground before focusing on him.

"Look, Bass, I don't really want to talk about it," she said. "You almost died and we did what we had to do. That's all you need to know."

She walked off, forcing him to trail behind.

* * *

On her shifts outside the tent, Charlie replayed that fateful night in her head, too.

Her mother had actually smiled at her when Bass was hauled off, bound and blindfolded. It was an evil, calculated grin along with those blank blue eyes of hers.

Charlie had known Rachel wanted Monroe to pay for Danny's death, but what about her? She was alive and her mother always seemed to look right through her. Not to mention, Bass had saved her, protected her, and maybe even loved her. Didn't that count for something?

What pissed Charlie off even more was when the patriots decided as judge and jury to execute Bass, her mother had volunteered — happily volunteered, for Pete's sake — to do it.

Charlie knew she should be grieving like Miles for the woman who gave birth to her, but she felt no remorse for cutting her mother down. She had seen red and Rachel had simply been in the way.


	10. Chapter 10

When the three of them trekked into what was once southern Colorado, Miles determined it easier to pitch camp in some of the hidden caves within the Rocky Mountains so they could all rest a little easier.

As they sat around staring into the fire, Bass broached the topic one more time.

"I want to know what happened," he said, glancing between Charlie and Miles.

Once again the two shared that look and he stood up, tossing his plate into the dirt.

"Damn it! I don't know why you all insist on hiding the truth from me!" Bass shouted, his temper rising. Charlie tugged on his shirtsleeve and he just glared at her.

"Oh for crying out loud, Bass, we'll tell you," Miles retorted, looking at his brother with mild annoyance. "Just sit down and calm down, you bastard, before you have an aneurysm."

Miles waved for him to park his ass and Bass complied. Charlie refrained from rolling her eyes. Miles was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Truthfully, much of it is a blur," he said. "Gene was injecting you and the next thing I know Charlie is whizzing by me. She tore through that room like a double-edged Texas tornado, taking out patriots left and right. I couldn't have done it better."

Miles paused, proud of his kid, a half-smile plastered on his face. Bass turned his head at her in astonishment. Charlie shrugged.

"Aaron was not far behind her and somehow I got free. By then, Charlie had reached you …" Miles' voice drifted off and Bass returned his gaze to Miles, whose face had hardened.

"Rachel grabbed for Charlie to stop her from unstrapping you and," he said before he was interrupted by Charlie.

"And I slit her throat," she said pointedly.

Bass gasped. Miles lowered his head.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," Charlie said, her eyes connecting with Bass' eyes. "I didn't even realize I had … that it was her … I was trying to save you."

The truth was she had been wielding the sword at anything that stood in between her and Bass. There had been no time to think. Her sole focus had been getting to him before the drug could flow through his veins.

Bass couldn't wrap his mind around it. Charlie had slain her own mother to save him. Rachel's life for his.

He vaguely heard Miles move away toward the mouth of the cave, leaving him alone with Charlie. Bass felt sorrow for him, remembering how he'd once lost the one he loved.

"So now you know," Charlie said, staring past him into the darkness.

"Charlotte, I'm sorry," Bass hoarsely said, pulling her into his lap, holding her close. "I really am. All I seem to do is bring trouble wherever you and your family are concerned."

Charlie said nothing, closing her eyes so she could concentrate on the steady beat of his heart.


	11. Chapter 11

Charlie wished, no longed, for a real bed, some decent food and an honest-to-God bath. She was tired of just washing off the grime in the river and the guys were really beginning to stink.

It has been over a month since they'd escaped and it seemed like they would never reach Colorado Springs. Miles had insisted they avoid faster modes of transportation because it would draw attention and make them easier targets. Better to stick to traveling by foot, he said.

Miles also figured it would give Aaron time to get his grand plan — whatever that was — in place by the time they arrived.

Worst of all, Charlie hadn't had a single moment alone with Bass and she was beyond frustrated. Sure they'd shared a touch here and there, even stolen a few kisses, but it was a little awkward to consider sex when your dad is laying mere feet away.

Charlie hadn't reached the point of calling Miles "Dad" but she was already seeing him in that role. She missed and mourned Ben Matheson; he'd been good to her and Danny, but there was no point in dwelling on what couldn't be changed.

She sighed as she watched the men walking in front of her. They had finally mended their differences and were actually laughing like they didn't have a care in the world.

* * *

After dinner, Charlie pulled Miles aside.

"Can you take a walk and look at the stars for a while?" she asked quietly.

Miles lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms. She had that trademark glint in her eye.

"And why would I do that?" he drawled.

Charlie refrained from squirming and put on a sad puppy face.

"Please, just this once?" she pleaded like a true teenager. He glanced at Bass who cleaning up their camp, oblivious to the conversation.

Miles sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn't going to like this.

"Fine. But you owe me, kiddo," he said. She nodded, smiling big and hugging him.

Miles grabbed one of his swords before stalking off into the night.

Bass came up behind her, looking in Miles' direction.

"What's that about? Where's he going?" he asked.

Charlie turned around and practically threw herself at him, looping her arms around his neck. Her youthful exuberance made him chuckle as he slid his arms around her waist.

"He's going for a walk, which means it's just you and me," she said, giving him a wicked grin. Bass stared at her, a smile forming.

"You're amazing, you know that right?" he said.

"Uh-huh," she replied, pressing her lips to his, tugging his shirt out of his pants. He let out a soft moan as her fingers trailed across his skin. He returned the favor, his hands caressing her smooth flesh as he pulled her shirt up.

* * *

When Miles trudged back to camp, he fervently prayed he wouldn't have to witness anything he'd regret. Fortunately he discovered them fully clothed and asleep by the fire as he neared. Charlie was nestled tight in Bass' embrace, her face buried in his chest. It made Miles pause at the sight.

The two people who mattered most to him were cuddled together.

Out here, there was no war, no blood being shed, nothing but them and the land. For a moment he pondered if they could simply stay and live the rest of their lives in isolation. Forget about the patriots, forget about the United States of America or lack thereof. Could they be happy then?

Miles shook his head, dismissing the thought. He laid his sword down before stretching out next to Bass in front of the fire, his back almost to Bass' back.

"Thank you," Bass whispered so softly Miles almost didn't catch it.

Miles closed his eyes and grunted in response.


	12. Chapter 12

Their peaceful world had fallen apart yet again.

Miles and Monroe were lying on their stomachs, faces in the grass, feet planted on their backs. Charlie was struggling with two Plains Nation soldiers who were manhandling her with sneers.

The soldiers had been on patrol outside Colorado Springs, the most southern foothold of the Plains Nation before crossing into the Wastelands. The trio had accidentally stumbled into the soldiers' view as they scouted from one of the cliffs overlooking the desolate-looking fort built up on the southeastern corner of town.

One of the men was attempting to feel Charlie up while the others gleefully watched.

"She's a real wildcat, boys!" he remarked as Charlie tried to bite him. Both Miles and Monroe were desperately thrashing under the boots holding them down, hollering for the soldiers to leave her alone.

The leader yanked her close, a vice grip on her wrists, his rancid breath in her face. The other man stood behind them his hand perversely running along her bottom.

"Now see here, missy, I run this outfit and you better settle down," the leader said, his eyes narrowing. He leaned in to kiss her.

Charlie was starting to see red, that elusive storm of fury buried deep inside beginning to brew. She spit in the man's face and dropped to her knees, startling him into releasing her. She kicked out a leg behind to topple the one standing behind her and then launched herself toward their abandoned packs. Another soldier grabbed one of her legs but not before she could wield one of Miles' swords.

The warrior within rose up her, her single focus: self-preservation. And so began the slaughter of seven soldiers who had no clue that morning they would never see daylight again.

* * *

Bass had never witnessed anything quite like it. Sure Miles was a regular killing machine, but his daughter surpassed him in spades.

He and Miles had watched the entire scene unfold from the ground, almost like slow motion, almost unreal.

Charlie sliced down every soldier in a matter of minutes — all on her own. He and Miles had been so astounded that even when the ones detaining them fell, they made no effort to stand or come to her aid.

When the last soldier hit the earth, Miles jumped into action, approaching Charlie with extreme caution as if to calm a frightened child. She had a death grip on the handle, blood dripping from the blade.

"Charlie, let me have the sword," he gently said, his hand out. She skimmed her surroundings to confirm there were no other hidden threats before releasing it. Bass slowly rose and made his way to them.

What was a person to say, to do after a massacre? Bass wondered. If Charlie had been under his command in the militia he would have commended her for a job well done. She had saved his neck, once again.

But this wasn't the militia and she wasn't one his soldiers, dammit. He ought to be the one protecting her, not the other way around. She was his and he was not going to lose another woman he loved.

Miles was checking Charlie for injuries, concerned, but she brushed him off, as Bass joined them.

"I'm fine," she said.

Bass surprised them both by sinking to his knees in front of her and burying his face into her abdomen, vowing to never let her go. Startled, Charlie placed her hands on his head and glanced at Miles. He shrugged and turned away to give them a private moment.

* * *

Miles had no advice for her. His best friend had loved and lost, been to hell and back, and there was no telling what was running through his brain. It was clear to Miles that Monroe's recent brush with death had been a turning point for the former military man.

It was as if Bass was seeing things through an entirely different filter. Miles was convinced that filter was Charlie. He was 100 percent sure Charlie had done more than resurrect Bass that night. She had resuscitated his compassionate side, too, the side Miles believed had died when Bass' wife Shelly had died in childbirth.

* * *

The emotion Bass was emitting stunned Charlie and she wasn't sure how to react. She had done what needed to be done.

She ran her fingers through Bass' curls before sinking to her knees, laying her forehead against his.

"Bass, it's okay. I'm okay," she said, touching his cheek.

"I can't lose you," Bass choked, covering her hand with his, his eyes welling up.

"You won't," Charlie promised, tenderly kissing him before helping him stand with her.


	13. Chapter 13

"Where have you guys been?" Aaron spouted after nearly colliding with them in the remains of downtown Colorado Springs.

"Hi to you, too," Miles retorted. Charlie hugged Aaron and Bass gave him a nod.

"Well, while you all have been taking your sweet time getting here, I've been trying to keep the soldiers at bay," Aaron huffed.

Miles snorted. "Like we haven't?" he replied.

"Just come on," Aaron said, taking off down one of the side streets. The trio shared a look before following. If only Aaron knew …

* * *

Aaron led them into a deceivingly decrepit warehouse only to find it was obviously a façade. Two levels in, Aaron had assembled his own version of a computer control center with all sorts of wires running from here to there.

"Wow," Miles said. Charlie admired it and smiled in Aaron's direction.

"How did you …" she asked, sweeping her arm in the air.

"Remember I was a tech geek before the blackout?" Aaron said, standing in the middle of the room. "Well, I had offices across the country and one happened to be in Colorado Springs."

"But businesses were raided after the blackout and electronics stripped," Bass interrupted. "How did you manage to hide that equipment or retrieve it?"

"Easy. Underground vaults at the local military installation," Aaron replied, looking at Monroe as if he should have known that.

Bass and Miles glanced at each other. How had they not thought about that?

"And exactly how have you managed to keep this operation hidden from the rest of the community?" Charlie asked.

Aaron's eyes lit up and he gave her a half-smile.

"Surprisingly no one feels compelled to deal with a crazy, homeless bearded guy who drifts around with wires hanging around his neck," he said.

Charlie grinned. Bass chuckled.

"Imagine that," Miles muttered.


	14. Chapter 14

Cynthia warmly welcomed them in the house she and Aaron dwelled in not far from the warehouse.

"I'm so glad you all are okay," she said as Charlie, Bass and Miles entered the living room. She helped Aaron remove some of the wires he had wrapped around him as part of his daily disguise.

Charlie sank onto the sofa and reveled in the softness of the cushions, her eyes drifting shut. It had been so long it seemed since she'd felt such homey comfort.

She must have fallen asleep, because next thing she knew, Bass was scooping her up in his arms and carrying her down the hall to their designated bedroom. He gently deposited her on the bed, pulling off her boots and tucking her under the covers.

"Hey," Charlie sleepily mumbled in protest as Bass started to exit the room. He returned to her side and leaned down.

"Get some rest," he said, caressing her cheek before lightly kissing her on the lips. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

"So what's the plan?" Miles asked once Bass settled at the kitchen table with him and Aaron.

"You know how I keep seeing these weird visions, right?" Aaron asked. Miles nodded.

"And somehow this makes me a pyromaniac, like those old horror stories from Stephen King," Aaron continued. Bass stared at him, his mouth open.

"You're kidding," Bass said.

"No, I really can set people on fire if I'm angry enough," Aaron replied, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

"That is some serious shit," Bass said in awe. "How did you acquire this ability?"

"Long story short, I died, I came back to life and now I'm permanently connected with these nanotechs," Aaron said. "I can't explain how it works. I just have these waking visions when people important to me are in danger and I can automatically cause the attackers to go up in flames."

Aaron hesitated before continuing, fiddling with his hands.

"A happy development," he sarcastically said, "is that now I can apparently control lightning too."

This time it was Miles' jaw that dropped.

"Remind me to stay on your good side," Miles said, recovering from his shock. "So how does brandishing lightning figure into this plan of yours?"

"As it turns out, Colorado Springs is prevalent to lightning strikes. I think if I can learn to harness this ability, we can create strategic electrical surges to power the control center and thus regain some semblance of order," Aaron said.

"Brilliant," Bass said, slapping Aaron on the back. "That will bring everyone straight to our doorstep. The war comes to us."

Aaron shot him a dirty look.

"I'm trying to stop the war, not bring it here," he said, glancing at Miles.

"But it will give us the tactical advantage," Miles said. "I agree with Bass. It's brilliant. Gotta say, I love that mind of yours."

"Why does anyone have to know we are controlling it from here?" Aaron argued. "I can scramble the signals so it will be tough to tell which city it's originating from. I don't relish the idea of soldiers marching through town and overrunning us. Does anyone not remember the patriots and how we all nearly died in Texas?"

Neither Miles nor Bass could meet his gaze. They had seen enough bloodshed and experienced enough pain for a lifetime. But how else do you take back a country without swords or soldiers? They had never tackled a military operation using technology; it had always been with sheer physical domination.

Bass scooted his chair back and stood.

"Let's sleep on it and strategize in the morning," he said, bidding them goodnight.

Miles leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and stared at Aaron.

"So lightning, huh? I wonder what superpower you'll gain next," he said with a smirk. Aaron glared at him, muttering something like "f*** you" under his breath before excusing himself from the room.

Miles remained in the kitchen long into the night, left to his own dark thoughts.


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: I'm gonna take a break for a few days to catch up with other works but never fear I'm coming back with more of Charlie and Bass and the rest of the crew. I'm having too much fun with TV's hottest imaginary couple. BTW, my musical inspiration this entire time has been Paul McDonald's "All I've Ever Needed."**_

Charlie sensed Bass invade the bed and sighed as his body warmth permeated her. She consistently felt empty when he was not nearby, ached even.

One side of her subconscious told her she should not need him so much, that he was a psychopath, a manipulative maniac, the reason her family was so fractured.

The other side of her subconscious told her he was not that man anymore. His brush with mortality had shattered the inner dam blocking his capacity to express emotion and to consider compassion. She was catching glimpses of his softer side, a man who quite possibly could love her.

Bass wrapped an arm around her waist, half pulling her under him, nuzzling the hollow under her ear as he settled against her.

She shifted and burrowed deeper into his embrace, ignoring the warring factions inside her head. All she wanted right now was to soak in whatever this was. Screw whatever tomorrow held.


	16. Chapter 16

Charlie carefully slipped out of the bed and Bass' embrace. She saw him shift into the warm spot she vacated and smiled. He looked so peaceful, so handsome, so much more like boyfriend material rather than a savage ex-dictator who had ruled with an iron fist over the militia.

With one last glimpse, she padded out into the hallway and down to the kitchen.

Aaron and Cynthia were sitting at the kitchen table quietly talking when she entered.

"You look like you're feeling better," Aaron said. Charlie smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry about falling asleep on you guys yesterday. I must have really been worn out," she said.

"Don't worry about it, sweetie," Cynthia said.

Charlie stood at the counter, filling a glass with water.

"Where's Miles?" she asked.

Aaron shrugged.

"Who knows, who cares," he muttered, still perturbed by Miles' conduct the night before. Cynthia laid a hand on his arm and shook her head in reprimand.

Charlie refrained from snorting. She knew Miles and Aaron had never really connected like Ben and Aaron had. Miles had a habit of pushing Aaron's buttons.

"He's still part of this family," Charlie said, hiding a smile behind her glass.

"But your dad told me to look out for you and here you are caught in the middle, running for your life, nearly getting killed on a daily basis because of that jerk," Aaron said.

Charlie set her glass down and calmly said, "That jerk also happens to be my real father, Aaron."

Stunned, Aaron's mouth gaped open.

At that moment, Bass chose to make an appearance, casually strolling into the kitchen. Disregarding present company, he walked behind Charlie, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the temple, as if he did it every morning.

Charlie blushed bright red. Bass peered over her shoulder at Aaron, smirking.

"How did you not know that?" he gravelly said. "She's a miniature, more beautiful version of Miles."

Between the double whammy of learning Charlie was Miles' daughter and witnessing a rare display of open affection by Monroe, Aaron looked like he would stroke out.

"Honey, take a deep breath," Cynthia softly said, leaning in close to Aaron.

"What about Miles?" Miles asked, wandering into the foray, looking a bit like death warmed over.

"We were just telling Aaron that you're Charlotte's dad and she's more beautiful than your ugly self," Bass said, grinning, Charlie still in his arms.

"Bass," Charlie hissed, embarrassed by all the attention.

"What? It's true," Bass said.

Miles rolled his eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

Tom Neville wasn't one to make friends but sometimes it was a calculated risk that needed to be taken. With his son at his side, he worked his way toward Colorado, having heard rumors in the camps that Miles Matheson had been spotted in the Plains Nation.

Jason struggled with violent flashbacks — damn those patriots for their reprogramming, brainwashing was more like it, he thought — during the journey, regrettably forcing Tom to knock him out from time to time. He hated wounding his son, but what else could he do? He was convinced the boy would eventually get past it as time marched on.

* * *

"Try again," Charlie said to Aaron, who sat in the center of his computer control room on a chair. Aaron exhaled in frustration. He felt like he was Luke being instructed by Obi-Wan to strike with his light saber at the floating ball with a closed helmet.

"Yes, master," Aaron mumbled under his breath. Charlie gave him a perplexed look.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of 'Star Wars'!" he exclaimed. She shrugged.

"Jedi Knights? Yoda? May the Force be with you? Any ring a bell?" Aaron asked. Again Charlie shrugged.

"What is this world coming to?" he bemoaned, covering his face with his hands. Charlie gave Miles a side-glance and lifted her eyebrows. Miles just shook his head.

"Come on, Aaron. Focus," Charlie said.

"I can't just call on the fire or the lightning anytime I want," Aaron snapped.

"Now wait a damn minute," Miles interrupted. "You're the one who said, and I quote, 'I can learn to harness this ability.'"

Aaron narrowed his eyes and glared at Miles.

"I said I think I can learn, you idiot," he said. "I didn't guarantee I'd figure out how to control it."

"Then what are we doing here?" Miles argued. Aaron stood up and threw his arms out.

"Hey, I'm winging this just like you are! I don't have all the answers!" he yelled.

Right then a couple of the windows shattered and the computers flickered on and off.

Charlie smiled at a wide-eyed Aaron and surprised Miles.

"You did it," she said. "I guess the Force really is with you."

* * *

"You should have seen it," Charlie explained to Bass as she sat down on the sofa next to him. She stretched her legs across his lap and leaned against the armrest.

Bass had spent the day scouting nearby neighborhoods for patriots and Plains Nation soldiers. There continued to be armed activity in spots throughout the town but nothing seemed too solidified. He had kept his head down or covered with a hoodie to avoid being recognized.

"Miles made him mad, and boom, the power flickered," Charlie said, casting a grin in Aaron's direction on the other side of the living room. He ducked his head in discomfiture and Cynthia patted his arm. Miles grunted in the doorway.

"So it's going to be my job to piss him off to make this work? Great," Miles retorted.

"You're a natural at making people angry, Miles," Bass replied, chuckling. "Consider it a compliment to your talent."

Miles shot him a dirty look.

"Well, Mister Big Shot, what about you? You find anything?" Miles said. Bass shook his head.

"There are several disorganized bands of soldiers mixed in with townspeople. I noticed a few patriots here and there, but right now they don't seem too interested in what the community is doing," he said.

"It won't be long before they get wind we're here," Miles said. He gave Aaron a hard stare. "We're gonna need that power harnessed before then."

"Oh sure. No problem. Leave it to me," Aaron sarcastically said.


	18. Chapter 18

"Charlie, how do you do it?" Cynthia asked while the guys were at the warehouse. Charlie looked up from cleaning their weapons.

"What do you mean?" she said, cocking her head.

Cynthia shifted in her chair.

Her relationship with Aaron had been up and down since she realized the true extent of the power he unwittingly had. She loved him for his kindness and gentle spirit, but to tell the truth, it made her nervous how powerful he really was.

Now with Charlie, Miles and Monroe here, insisting their home be the headquarters for the resistance with Aaron as the catalyst, she was downright uneasy. She had heard horrible stories about Miles and Monroe back in Texas and she wasn't sure how she felt about their presence. She also felt sorry for Charlie who had been stripped of her innocence; that someone that young could be so hard and cynical troubled Cynthia.

"I don't mean to pry, but you and Monroe … isn't he the reason you've lost your family?" Cynthia swallowed, meeting Charlie's gaze, "How is it that you are with him?"

Charlie gave her a half-smile. She had often asked herself that question and there was no straight answer. He had become such an integral part of her life since that fateful day in the tower. They were so synced — whether that was good or bad, she didn't know — she was destined to be by his side no matter what the future held.

"I won't deny he hasn't hurt my family," Charlie said as she reassembled the pistol she was cleaning. "I tried to kill him but couldn't. He saved me and then I saved him." She laid down the gun and looked Cynthia in the eye.

"All I know is that I can't breathe without him, that his heartbeat keeps me going," she said. "And if I were to hazard a guess, you feel the same way about Aaron."


	19. Chapter 19

Aaron was ready to set the whole place on fire and just disappear. He was having a hard time trying to tame this talent he been granted, and with more resistance fighters appearing on the scene, the pressure to perform was increasing.

Three former Marines who had served under Miles had heard through the grapevine that he was looking for fighters and had made their way to Colorado Springs to join him.

Wyatt Sumner and Roark Williams had been in a settlement in eastern Kentucky and picked up fellow jarhead Jenessa Mirren outside of Springfield, Missouri.

When they arrived, they were a bit shocked to discover Bass Monroe was alive. By all accounts, they had heard he was dead. Apparently the patriots had covered the fact he escaped so as to suppress rioting and thus incite more resistance.

All three were even more surprised — and impressed — to learn Miles had a daughter, a warrior in her right who was serving as his second in command with Bass as her permanent shadow.

* * *

Less than a week later, Tom and Jason walked into town.

Tom and Miles bitterly faced off once Tom learned Bass was alive and Charlie was overseeing all the resistance fighters. He had expected Miles to turn over military operations to him, not force him to report to a kid the same age as his and a girl at that.

"Surely you don't expect me to take orders from her," Tom told Miles, ignoring Charlie who was just feet away. She started to confront him when Bass shot out an arm in front of her to stop her and shook his head.

Miles cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at Tom.

"I don't really see that you have a choice, Tom," he calmly said. "You can either help us or you can go back to where you came."

Wyatt, Roark and Jenessa casually positioned themselves around their commander in silent show of force. Tom pressed his lips together.

Jason couldn't take his eyes off Charlie, snippets of memories flooding through his vision. He was sure they had been involved, but he couldn't quite piece it together. Charlie didn't notice his stare although Bass did.

"Perhaps I'm reacting a little rash," Tom said, glancing tenderly at his son and back at Miles. "It has a been a long journey and my boy has had a tough row of it. Could you direct us to where we can set up camp and rest a while?"

"Wyatt here would be more than happy to show you around," Miles said. Tom nodded and picked up his pack.


	20. Chapter 20

Most of the Marine buddies were lounging on Aaron's porch, swapping stories and telling on each other in front of Charlie. Jenessa had already returned to the house she shared with Roark and Wyatt.

Wyatt was relaying one of the times pre-blackout when he, Miles and Roark had gotten into a scuffle at a local bar not far from base with a couple of Air Force pilots.

Roark was standing too close to Charlie for Bass' liking. He scowled. She was grinning, her attention on Wyatt, when Roark touched her arm.

"Your dad remarked those flyboys were nothing but stick jockeys," Roark said, barely containing his laughter. "One of them charged him and Miles flat out knocked the kid on his ass when the other one jumped on his back. It was quite the sight, Miles thrashing around, him piggybacked by that guy!"

Roark was nearly shedding tears, almost doubled over in stitches at the memory. Wyatt shook his head and Miles rolled his eyes.

"Wyatt here had pity on me and intervened," Miles said, "no thanks to you, Williams."

"Yeah, yeah," Roark said, still chuckling. "That is still the best story, ever."

Smiling from ear to ear, Charlie glanced at Bass, who was leaning against the wall nearby, his face half hidden in the falling darkness. He gave her a half-smile. She nudged him with her elbow and lifted an eyebrow.

She enjoyed hearing stories about better days, especially funny ones about Miles and Bass in their younger years. So she couldn't understand why Bass appeared so sour.

He tipped his head toward the front door, indicating he was ready to go in and he wanted her to follow.

"Well, I'd love to stick around and hear more, but I'm gonna turn in, fellas," Charlie said, pushing away from the railing. Wyatt saluted her and Miles bid her goodnight. Roark protested she stay a little longer.

"Come on, Charlie! It's just getting good," he said. She shook her head.

"Next time," she replied, smiling at him, as Bass held open the door for her. It was all he could do to not knock Roark's teeth out.

Bass ushered Charlie into their bedroom and shut the door before hauling her to him. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself.

"I don't share, Charlotte," he hissed. She looked at him confused.

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"I've seen how Williams keeps putting his hands on you and how Tom's boy keeps looking at you with puppy eyes. I don't share! You are mine," he said in a low voice.

Charlie broke free and stepped back out his reach, her eyes flashing.

"Let's get something straight. You don't own me! I'm not a piece of property and I'm certainly not one of your whores," she bit back, narrowing her gaze at him. He visibly flinched.

"Furthermore, you don't control me and I don't have to explain myself to you. I'm second in command and I don't answer to you or anyone else. The men out there, they answer to me," she said.

Deflated, Bass sighed and ran his hand through his hair before sinking down on the edge of the bed.

"That's not what I meant, Charlotte," he said, resignedly.

"Then what exactly do you mean, Sebastian?" she retorted. Bass cringed. It was never good when she resorted to calling him by his given name. He internally struggled to admit how he felt, how he needed her, how he loved her.

Charlie stared at him and then it dawned on her. Bass was jealous. The general in front of her was seriously green with envy the men had been flirting with her. She told herself not to laugh out loud. As if she was interested in anyone other than him!

Bass stared at the floor and then at her. She could see the hurt, the sadness, the betrayal — everything he'd experienced before she had entered his life — etched across his face.

"I need you," he hoarsely whispered. "To think about any of them with you … It makes me want to kill them all."

Charlie was startled yet ecstatic by his admission. She took pity on him and came to him, straddling his lap.

"I need you, too," she said, laying her forehead against his. "You're all I want. You don't have to worry about those guys."

She looped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. He let out a strangled groan and angled his mouth over hers with his hands buried in her hair.

Charlie eventually broke the kiss long enough to whisper against his lips, "And Bass, I don't share either. If you ever double-cross me, I will cut off your head."

Bass smirked and slid his hands under her thighs to bring her flush against him.

"Fair enough," he said, twisting them around and pressing her into the bed.


	21. Chapter 21

Jenessa, having long ago repressed her feelings for Miles, found herself dealing with old emotions once again as she took to the streets with the others to scout for patriots.

She had never acted on it; Miles had no idea she was interested in him and there was no reason to tell him now, she furiously told herself. She was merely here to bring down those damned patriots who had murdered her parents for defending their farm, not have a romance with her former sergeant.

Roark could tell something was on his partner's mind. He had always been able to read her since she had joined their unit years ago.

"Spill it, Jen," he said after she scrunched up her nose for the one-millionth time.

She whipped her head toward him in disbelief. She had forgotten Roark was there, she'd been so lost in thought.

"It's nothing," Jenessa said, stiffening her shoulders.

"Nothing my ass," Roark said, stopping midstride and grabbing her wrist. "You forget I know you better than anyone."

Jenessa sighed and shook her wrist loose. Roark was right; he'd been like a brother to her, silently protecting her when things got a little rowdy on assignment. She shifted from one foot to the other, kicking a rock or two, unwilling to look at him.

"What's eating at you?" Roark asked, crossing his arms.

"Remember how I refused to go out with you all to the bars?" she finally said.

"Yeah. So what? I just figured you got enough bullshit during the day you didn't want it at night too," he said.

"That wasn't the real reason," Jenessa said. Roark waited for her answer. Jenessa growled and balled her hands at her sides.

"I had a crush on Miles," she spit out. "I was fool for thinking that it would ever amount to anything."

Roark's face softened in understanding.

"And now that you're here, it brought it all back," he said. "Does he know?"

"No! And don't you dare tell him," she said, menacingly stepping toward him.

Roark raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Hey, when have I ever broke a promise?" he asked.

Jenessa dropped her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"Don't worry about it," Roark said, lightly punching her in the shoulder. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

Tom was pissed. The thought of having to answer that blond bitch was really getting under his skin. He loathed Miles for putting him in this position and determined he would find a way to bring the girl down, just like he had her father. His best plot at the moment was to "accidently" put a bullet in her brain during training.

Wyatt, who had been paired with Tom for patrols, watched Tom out of the corner of his eye.

Not long after Tom's arrival, Miles had pulled Wyatt aside, briefed him on the back history, and told him to stick to Tom like glue. While Miles believed Tom was useful, he warned Wyatt the man was a crafty bastard who given the chance would likely kill them all for his own gain.

Wyatt could tell Tom was not happy about being assigned to the mundane task of patrolling. It was obvious the man would rather gouge his own eyes out. His hatred for Charlie was evident, too, which set Wyatt on edge.

How could a man have so much ire for someone so young? And why? Wyatt wondered. Tom had killed Miles' brother and then had a hand in harming other members of Miles' family. Now he was out to get Miles' daughter.

After Miles had briefed him, Wyatt had talked to Roark and Jenessa that evening at their house to bring them up to speed. All of them willingly agreed Tom Neville was dangerous and secretly made a pact they would assassinate him if he became too much of a problem.


	22. Chapter 22

Jason watched Charlie as she worked with Aaron to test his powers. His memories were slowly coming back in full and he remembered the first time he had met Charlotte Matheson. He remained in awe of her and attracted to her.

Miles had decided he was not stable enough to go on patrols since he was still deprogramming and exhibiting side effects. He instead was assigned to help in the warehouse. Translation: sit around and do nothing until you get better.

This, of course, annoyed Bass. One day when Charlie had been out and about with Miles, Aaron had inadvertently informed Bass during a conversation that Jason and Charlie had a history, which rankled Bass all the more.

Every time he saw the boy eyeing Charlie, Bass wanted to rip his spine out. He had managed so far, however, to keep his anger in check for Charlie's sake.

Since that night on the porch, she had made an effort to be publicly affectionate with him, thus effectively allowing him to challenge anyone to defy him and his claim on her. It seemed, however, Jason had not gotten the message.

On this day, Jason's unbridled interest caught Bass' attention when he looked up from the maps he and Miles were reviewing. He grit his teeth and clenched a fist, shoving away from the table.

"Hey kid, why don't you run back to Aaron's house and pick up lunch for us," Bass said, plastering a smile on his face as he approached Jason.

Miles sensed there was going to be a fight and cursed. He made a mental note to start meeting with Bass anywhere but here as he quickly moved to intercept.

Jason broke his gaze from Charlie to Bass who was practically on top of him. He lifted his chin and boldly looked Bass in the eye, unafraid of his dad's former boss.

"Bass, leave him alone," Miles called out, causing Charlie and Aaron to notice the commotion and stop what they were doing.

"Shit," Charlie muttered when she realized Bass was about to go nuclear on Jason. Miles stepped in between the two, forcing them to separate. Bass glared at him.

"Back off, Miles. This is between me and the boy," Bass growled.

"Un-uh," Miles replied, speaking mostly for Jason's benefit. "We all know Charlie is yours. Enough with the pissing contest."

Miles turned to Jason and gave him a half-smile.

"Why don't you go see if Cynthia needs you to help," he firmly instructed. Jason looked like he wanted to disobey a direct order, but gave a slight nod.

"Yes, sir," he said, turning on his heel.

Miles turned back to Bass and got in his face.

"What do you think you're doing, Bass? He's just a kid," Miles said.

"A kid who is looking at my wife like she's a piece of meat," Bass snapped.

Miles blinked. Charlie's mouth gaped open. Aaron quietly excused himself and left the room.


	23. Chapter 23

**_A/N: Gotcha didn't I? :) I'm obviously having waaaaay too much fun with this. Thank you to all the reviews, favs and followers. You have totally made my year!_**

"Wife?" Miles asked when he finally found his voice. It was news to him.

Charlie was trying to wrap her mind around it. It was news to her, too.

Bass turned his head to look at Charlie, shock written across her face, still rooted in the spot she had been standing with the now-absent Aaron.

She was his partner, his lover, _his everything_; he supposed his subconscious already considered her his wife, therefore the slip of the tongue.

"What can I say?" Bass replied, shrugging his shoulders, his arms crossed, as if it was no big deal.

He refused to take it back. Charlie was his and he was tired of justifying himself, especially to that cocky brainwashed brat of Tom's.

Charlie couldn't decide whether to be offended or overjoyed.

Did she want to be labeled in that way? Did it really matter how he defined their relationship as long as they were together? The man could be so endearing yet infuriating and confounding at the same time.

Miles shook his head as if to clear it.

Although he had accepted his best friend and his daughter were involved, he still was having difficulty adjusting to it. He quelled the impulse to deck Bass simply for being his usual arrogant self.

"Is it safe to come out yet?" Aaron called out from one of the adjoining rooms. He had taken cover, afraid he'd be exposed to a whole different form of fireworks.

* * *

Cynthia entered the warehouse with Jason in tow carrying a couple of sacks. Aaron was in his computer control center with Miles but Charlie and Monroe were nowhere to be seen.

Aaron stood when Cynthia walked into the room, glad for the distraction. Miles was giving him a headache.

Jason casually surveyed the warehouse for Charlie as he helped Cynthia unpack lunch. The door opened and Wyatt, his father, Roark and Jenessa wandered in.

"I'm starving," Roark announced as he made his way to the serving table.

"You're always hungry," Miles muttered, still recovering from the earlier tussle with Bass.

"As my momma used to say, I'm a growing boy," Roark said with a laugh as he reached for a sandwich.

"'Boy' is right," Jenessa said, poking him in the ribs.

"Hey!" Roark said, fending her off.

"Knock it off, kids," Wyatt said, standing behind them.

Tom stayed back, watching them. He didn't share their camaraderie nor did he care to. His son brought him a sandwich after the others had grabbed theirs.

* * *

Detecting Charlie was annoyed with him, Bass chose to give her a little space, keeping a slight distance as he followed her up another flight of stairs in the warehouse.

She hadn't said a word. Instead she simply had walked out of the room, her face unreadable. They ascended three more levels before she strode into an open area littered with old office furniture and industrial materials.

Bass leaned against a steel pillar, watching and waiting. He knew Charlie would let him have it when she was good and ready.

* * *

Charlie's mind was whirling.

Bass continued to be possessive and deep down she liked it. It didn't even really bother her being called his "wife."

But she didn't need him defending her. She could take care of herself, for crying out loud, and she most certainly could handle a jerk like Jason.

She paced for a moment and then strode his direction.

Bass straightened, mentally prepared for the onslaught he was sure was coming.

Charlie stopped just feet in front of him, her chin up, blue eyes glittering.

"Don't you ever do that again," she ordered in a low voice. "If or when I need your help, I'll let you know."

"Duly noted," he replied, his eyes boring into hers.

Neither of them could later recall who moved first. All that mattered was Charlie was in his arms, Bass' mouth on hers. He maneuvered her against the nearest wall, lifting her up and pinning her to it with his hips.

Bass broke the kiss to trail his lips along her jaw and nip at the curve of her neck and collarbone. Charlie leaned her head back against the wall, clutching her hands at his neck and shoulder, gasping and arching toward him as he ground himself against her, his hands cupping her backside.

In between grunts and groans, they frantically pushed down and moved aside clothing before furiously coming together. Charlie bit her lip from crying out; Bass muffled his moan in her neck.

When they reappeared downstairs, no one paid much attention except for the Nevilles, who each were devising their own plans for Charlie.


	24. Chapter 24

Ten days later, Charlie found herself staring down the barrel of a gun for the umpteenth time in her life. This time she didn't relish the idea of dying or being at the mercy of its handler. Her vision blurred before she could assess what had happened.

All she could recollect later was hearing someone cry out — maybe it was her, she didn't rightly know — and someone slamming into her.

* * *

When Charlie woke from what she was sure was a nightmare, she was in bed and Bass was sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over, head in his hands. He looked like he hadn't slept in days he was so haggard. She reached out and touched his shoulder.

He snapped his neck around and she could see relief flood his tear-stained face. He leaned over and buried his face in her chest.

"I thought I had lost you," Bass said, his voice rough and muffled. "I didn't know … how I … I couldn't do it again …"

Charlie ran her fingers through his curls, the nape of his neck, trying to soothe him; although she couldn't comprehend why he was so upset.

Miles appeared in the doorway of the room. He looked as ragged as Bass.

"Hey, kid," he said, giving her a half-smile. "Glad to see you're awake."

She returned a half-smile, still confused about all the fuss over her. It had been a dream, right?

Bass finally leaned back and Charlie struggled to sit up. She felt bruised or banged up like she'd been in a fight. Bass shifted around so he could put an arm around her and keep her upright.

What the hell had happened? Charlie wondered, glancing from Bass to Miles.

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" she said aloud.

* * *

As the story unfolded, Charlie began to piece together the nightmare had turned out to be reality.

All of them — Miles and his Marine buddies, the Nevilles, Bass and her — had been in an open field brushing up their sharpshooting skills. Miles had insisted they needed the practice, and since everything seemed relatively quiet in the area at the moment, that sunny day seemed the most logical choice.

Wyatt proved he was still the best, with Jenessa and Bass tying in a close second. Jason's skills were pretty sharp, too, although he seemed distracted enough to not quite hit every target. Roark mostly kidded around, telling Charlie he knew he was no match to the others and he would hit subjects when the time came.

Tom was the last to practice, having made it clear he would wait for the others to finish. Everyone figured he was just being contrary as usual. Little did they know there was a method to his madness.

When he had stepped up to the line, he was dead on with each shot, hitting mark after mark. No one had been paying attention enough to notice he had one bullet left in his gun.

Tom turned to face them, triumph on his face not because he had topped Wyatt but because he had found his opportunity to take Charlie out.

She was standing almost directly behind him, leaning against a boulder with Roark on one side and Bass on the other.

Bass had ultimately relented that Roark was no threat to their relationship and no longer reacted when he perceived Roark to be in Charlie's personal space. The three of them were engaged in conversation, ignoring Tom, who was being loosely supervised by Miles and Wyatt, who were standing several feet to his right with Jenessa.

Jason, who was not far from Roark, caught the gleam in his father's eye and instantly knew what was about to happen. His father had been ranting and raving about Charlie since they arrived. Jason had once spoken up in her defense and it had earned him a sore jaw. He had clammed up after that.

Opening his mouth, Jason tried to shout but no sound came out as he hurdled himself at Charlie. Before anyone else could react, Tom raised his gun and aimed right between Charlie's eyes.

The shot rang out. Jason slammed Charlie into the rock, taking the bullet in the back through the shoulder blade into the heart. They both crumpled to the ground, her knocked unconscious and him dead.

At that very second, Aaron passed out on the warehouse floor, his eyelids fluttering.

Tom's fleeting moment of victory was replaced with sorrow when it occurred to him he had killed his own beloved son. Miles and Wyatt ran towards Tom, skidding to a halt when the sky suddenly darkened overhead and crackling could be heard.

A bolt of lightning struck Tom where he stood, and in that instant, he wryly pondered how could his life have come to this.

Bass and Roark fell to their knees and pushed Jason's body from Charlie's. Bass immediately began checking Charlie for wounds, as there was blood everywhere. He panicked, his voice rising in alarm at her unresponsiveness.

This was not supposed to happen, his mind screamed at him. It was like watching Shelly die in his arms all over again.

Jenessa rushed to them, placing her hand on Roark's shoulder and he looked up at her, agony in his eyes. For him it was like watching a brother fall in battle.

Miles and Wyatt stared down in disbelief at the spot where Tom had been and where only ashes remained.

* * *

As Miles finished recounting what had happened, Bass tightened his embrace, his nose in her hair, clinging to her as if Charlie was his lifeblood.

Bass didn't want to move a muscle; he was afraid he himself might wake up and realize this was all a dream, that she resting alive here in his arms wasn't real.

Miles watched them for a little longer, assuring himself his daughter was going to be okay, before quietly easing out of the room and shutting the door.


	25. Chapter 25

**_A/N: Thanks again for the feedback! I know some of you are little put off by the death of Jason, but truthfully I never really planned to keep him around. He did sacrifice his life for Charlie, however, so what is more romantic than that? _**

**_Rest assured that I'm not planning on killing any more canon characters. I think there has been enough blood shed onscreen and off in my fantasy land … for now, anyway._**

Winter had set in, and so for a season, the resistance fighters who had been trickling in all but came to a stop.

Charlie bounced back and resumed her duties of rallying the troops with Bass as her permanent shadow. He refused to leave her side for any reason and hawkeyed anyone who got too close with the exception of those in their immediate unit.

After all that happened, Charlie found herself letting go and permitting Bass to be her bodyguard, defender and protector. Sure they still fought over certain things — what couple doesn't — but she ultimately accepted he had her best interest at heart when it came to important matters.

Truthfully she was grateful. Bass had her back, which allowed her to focus on her duties as Miles' second in command without sweating the small stuff. Her father had come to rely on her for direction as much as he did with Bass.

They were quite the clan, Charlie observed during a down day at home. Snow swirled outside and she was curled up under a comforter on Bass's lap in an oversized chair in the living room. Cynthia was snuggled close to Aaron on the sofa, wrapped in a quilt. Miles was stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace, half-asleep.

Aaron had been practicing diligently to regulate his pyrokinetic ability and pleasantly surprised them all by creating a roaring fire in the fireplace with his mind. He was also entertaining them with stories of an era that predated Charlie's recollection.

"You're telling me that people could talk and see others no matter where they were on this device you call an iPhone?" Charlie innocently asked. Bass chuckled, his chest rumbling under her. He sometimes forgot how young she really was. Aaron nodded.

"Smartphones like the iPhone had buttons called apps that you could touch and up came the website information you wanted at your fingertips," he explained. "You could search for weather reports, gas prices, stock quotes and more. You could also take photos, shop online, order concert tickets, pay bills, see your bank statement, get GPS directions, read books, play music or games and watch TV and movies. Social media was popular like Facebook and Twitter."

Charlie gave him a blank stare for she didn't have a clue what half of those things were. She barely recalled watching TV and she had seen photographs and books before. But the idea of a smartphone that allowed people to talk from one city to another was beyond her imagination. And what the heck was GPS or Facebook?

Aaron realized Charlie had no point of reference when it came to electronics so rather than trying to backtrack and explain, he moved onto to other more familiar subjects.

Knocking on the front door startled them all. Bass automatically reached for his ever-present gun, tightening his hold on Charlie. Miles jumped to his feet and headed to the door without hesitation as he figured an enemy wouldn't knock first.

Charlie heard Wyatt's voice and scrambled out of Bass' lap to join Miles at the door. Miles had appointed Wyatt to lead the security team and he was reporting in for the day, saying all was quiet.

"Wyatt, you could have taken the day off," Charlie admonished. "It's not like there would be a sudden uprising in this weather."

Miles stared down at her, biting his tongue. Inclement weather if anything was the perfect time for an attack when everyone's guard was down. Wyatt merely smiled at her and saluted before winking at Miles. He like Miles knew there was no such thing as taking a break as long as patriots roamed the country.

"Don't mind if I do," Wyatt said before trudging off the porch and disappearing into the flurries.

Rather than start a deep discussion with his daughter about tactical advantages, Miles shut the door and returned to his spot on the floor by the fire. Charlie climbed back into Bass' lap and he gently covered her again with the comforter.

"Where was I?" Aaron asked. Cynthia rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and spoke.

"You were talking about Google," she said. Charlie piped up.

"Remind me again what the Internet is?" she said. Bass stifled a laugh and Miles just buried his face in his arms.


	26. Chapter 26

_**A/N: Just binge-watched all of Revolution S1 and felt like I needed to dedicate a chapter to Miles. Have tons of ideas for upcoming chapters so I will try to write them down over the next couple of weeks. As always, your reviews, comments and Charloe chatter are welcome and I thank you for reading!**_

Miles lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, the bed covers strewn about. He continued to find sleep elusive and the nightmares ever present.

Sometimes the visions were of Rachel, that wild accusing look in her eyes. She accused him of not having a heart, reminding him that his hands were covered in blood as the almighty butcher of Baltimore. She never forgave him for leaving, for not settling down and raising their child together.

Sometimes the visions were of Nora, her dark eyes staring at his, pleading. He could never give her what she needed and he never told her how he really felt when she died in his arms. She had deserved better.

Sometimes the visions were of Emma, how they had loved each other as only teens would. He had known even then it wouldn't last, that she really had her heart set on Bass all along.

Sometimes the visions were of Charlie, his daughter who had grown up way too fast. He was proud of her, as obviously she had turned out better than he could have imagined. But he blamed himself for all the turmoil she had endured because of him. She had been forced to see and do things someone her age should have never experienced. She should have been allowed to live and love, have fun drinking, dancing and doing whatever she wanted; instead she had become a trained killer under his watch.

Sometimes the visions were of his impending death. He was actually surprised he had survived this long. He had so many narrow escapes, he figured he was overdue for a permanent checkout.

His only consolation was the two most important people in his life would have each other, whenever his demise came about. He sighed and flopped on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.

* * *

Down the road, Jenessa stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, her mind replaying each and every encounter with Miles over the past six months.

Roark kept encouraging her to say something, but her biggest reservation was his rejection. She knew it was silly, insecure maybe, but she felt couldn't compare to the women who had been important to him.

Wyatt had revealed years ago how Miles' fiancée had had an affair with Bass and yet Miles had forgiven her. She must have been someone special for him to do so, Jenessa thought.

She had heard in her travels in the Monroe Republic about the illustrious bomb maker named Nora. The Latino beauty was repeatedly spotted at Miles' side and they apparently had an off and on thing up to her untimely death.

And then there was Charlie's mother. It was only recently Jenessa learned Rachel had been behind the blackout and involved in the nuclear demolition. She wondered why Miles and Rachel had split early on.

Jenessa sighed and rolled on her side, squeezing her eyes shut. There was no point to dwelling on this, she reprimanded herself. Miles would never see her as anything but a fellow soldier fighting for the cause.

* * *

"Sir, can I see you for a minute?" Roark said one afternoon at the warehouse. He still couldn't bring himself to call Miles by his first name, even though Miles had repeatedly insisted. Matheson had been his superior then as he was now.

The others were out and about, leaving only Miles and Aaron inside the control center.

"What's on your mind?" Miles replied, not looking up from the desk he was sitting at. Grateful for the interruption, Aaron wandered out of the room.

"It's Jenessa," Roark said, tugging at his shirt nervously. He had promised he wouldn't say anything, but since taking this assignment, his partner had been slowly pulling inside herself and he knew it was because of Miles.

"What about her?" Miles asked, glancing up. "What's wrong with her?"

"Well, sir, she has become withdrawn and I'm not sure what to do to help her," Roark said.

Miles stared at him for a minute before answering. He was never good when it came to females and their feelings. In fact, he was downright terrible about it.

"Is this something Charlie can help with?" he asked, leaning back. His daughter had more compassion in her pinkie then he did in his entire body. Not to mention, he had elevated her to second in command for a reason: she could help handle the humanity factor.

Roark actually looked relieved.

"Yes, sir," he replied, kicking himself for not thinking of that first. Charlie could guide Jenessa into finding a solution.

"Okay, then. Anything else?" Miles said, still staring at Roark.

"No, sir," Roark said, backing away.

"Roark?" Miles asked, causing Roark to stop. "Quit calling me sir. That's an order. It's Miles. We've known each other too long to be standing on formalities."

"Yes, sir, err, Miles," Roark said, trying not to stumble as he exited the room.

Miles just shook his head and looked back down at his desk. Whatever was troubling Jenessa obviously troubled Roark enough to make him seize up like a private on his first tour.


End file.
